by Fushigi Kismet
She is fire. I am fire.
They never knew that I loved her. I wanted her for myself. I
wanted to be close to her. I wanted to feel her lips on mine, her
voice whispering in my ear.

As it had once, long, long ago.

She and I had been in love.

Such a long time ago. Why do I remember these things? They are
like the flicker of a flame . . . burning bright and dying down . . .
then burning bright again. She was the flame and my love fed the
fire.
That was the only reason I went to work at that Shinto shrine . .
. Hikawa, or whatever it's called. I was not thinking of collecting
energy or finding the Senshi or doing anything else to serve Queen
Beryl or Metallia. I just wanted to be near her, to see her, and
dream of love and passion for me burning brightly in her eyes.

I was a fool.

I will admit it now. I knew her for what she truly was,
schoolgirl, Shinto priestess, Sailor Senshi, what did it matter?

It mattered. Indeed it mattered.

For I had forgotten what I had become.

Her enemy.

Oh, why did she have to discover the truth? I would have been
content forever to bask in her glow, but it was not to be. She knew
what I was, and she hated me for it.

And yet, I still wanted her. Even when I was fighting her and
attempting to kill her, I wanted nothing more than to take her in my
arms and tell her how much I loved her.

It was not to be. It was never to be. She was Senshi. I was
Dark King. I had betrayed my oath to be a Guardian and she would
never forgive me for that. I did not deserve her forgiveness. I did
not deserve . . . her.

But still . . . I wanted her.

I grew to hate her and love her all at once. And it was my
burning desire for her that kept me going. The burning desire in my
heart, my soul, that would not die.
Flicker.

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